Xmen: How brave men fall
by My Deliah
Summary: Have you seen a brave man fall? Christine hasn't, she knew that Pyro was a coward all along. Life suddenly changed after Nightcrawler's attack on the president, bonds were broken, friends lost. They all felt him slip, but they couldn't stop him...
1. 1: The one where it all began

**X-men: How brave men fall**

_Author: _My Deliah

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Marvel characters._

**Chapter 1: the beginning**

It was really awkward, she felt. The two guys weren't talking very much, and she didn't have anything to say either. There wasn't any tension in the air, but she felt pressed to say something anyway, the silence made her nervous.

The boy called John had taken her to the kitchen where they had found themselves some food. Obviously this wasn't the way you were supposed to get your lunch, but at least they would avoid the crowd in the cafeteria. And it really was beautiful out here.

They were sitting by a picnic-table beside an oak tree on the school grounds. The sun was shining and the birds were singing. The late summer heat made almost all the students walk around in shorts and t-shirts or tops. But not Christine, she wore jeans and a long sleeved blouse. She had never felt comfortable walking around with lesser clothing. There were surprisingly many students here. Her mother had always given her the impression that mutation was a small phenomenon, a disease that only infected a hand-full of people. Now she knew that it was what her mother had always wanted her to believe. As long as Chris was scared, she wouldn't cause her mother any trouble. You might get the impression that Christine resented her mother the most, but that was not the fact. It was her spine-less, miserable excuse of a man, father she hated. Trough all those years he'd let her mother pull the strings, not once had he stood up for her again her crow of a mother.

Someone sat down beside her, a girl with dark-brown hair and eyes like deep wells, deer eyes. She smiled timidly and there was something very profound about her. Though she looked like a normal girl, there was something off about her, something that separated her from the others. Chris smiled back, just to loosen up things a bit, break the ice.

"Hi." Chris tried to sound cheerful, not because she felt she had to, but because she wanted to. Unfortunately she didn't quite make it sound as joyful as she'd hoped. Darn.

"Oh, Christine, this is my girlfriend Rogue." Bobby said. Chris suddenly noticed why she'd reacted to the girls' hair colour. She had snow white streaks framing her forehead. They didn't look natural, but they weren't dyed either. Very odd in a way, but pretty. We sat quiet and now there was an uncomfortable silence. Then Rogue turned to me.

"So Christine, do you have any…" She hesitated and didn't finish the sentence. Maybe she remembered it could be a sensitive topic. Chris thought about it for a while. Ever since she discovered her mutation, Chris had isolated herself from interacting with others, and before that… Let's say that she'd always known she was different from others, not exactly what made her different, but it was always there. But there was someone, a boy watching her from the shadows. She had never spoken to him, he'd always kept his distance, but in a way they had grown up together. Though she never knew his name or even why he was there, she was grateful for his presence and though of him as a friend.

"You mean if I have a boyfriend?" She asked Rogue.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't mean to intrude!" The girl began, but Chris waved her off.

"I don't mind, and no I don't have a boyfriend since, you know.. the mutant thing." Bobby and Rogue nodded and made agreeing noises, but she could tell they didn't have a clue on what she meant with "the mutant thing". Of course they didn't understand what she was talking about, they hadn't been there when it happened. They didn't remember the event, a thing so awful it made her spine shiver. And they never would know either, she would make sure of that. John just looked down at the table, playing with his lighter.

She let her mind slip again, remembering how she got here, to Xaviers', in the first place.

-----

_"I remember the time I realized I was different"_

She stared at the words for a couple of seconds before hitting the 'erase' button on her computer. Different wasn't quite enough to describe her 'condition'. At lest that's what her mother called it, like it was some kind of disease. She knew her mother was ashamed to have given birth to a mutant, and maybe she was afraid. These were unsettled times, and in many ways it was a dangerous place to be if you were… different.

Her eyes wandered and found the mirror standing beside her computer. The blue orbs that pierced her were her eyes, but at the same time unfamiliar, hostile. She'd been forced to wear blue lenses for five whole years now. The bright and plastic looking blue was in many ways a mockery against the soft blue her eyes had been before her 'condition' had become visible. Can you imagine the panic her twelve-years old self had felt when she one day discovered that her eyes were losing their colour? She hid in her room, afraid of how the rest of her family would react if they saw what were happening to her. Maybe they would think that she was turning in to one of "the filth" her mother so often spoke of. If they knew, they wouldn't love her anymore. But of course they found out. She could still remember her mothers scream and their terrified, disgusted faces when they saw it.

They let her stay in their house, but forced her to wear the coloured lenses. Her mother said it was for her own good, that people would treat her bad if she didn't. Somewhere inside her she knew that it was as much for her mother sake as for her own that she wore those damn things. And of course, she had been forced to move to a new school so that no one would notice her radical change in eye colour. Sometimes no and then someone would ask if it really was her real colour and she would have to lie and answer that it was.

Her parents hadn't said it out loud, but she still knew. When she looked them in the eye, she saw no love anymore. She was an entity that had infested their home and their family, without use for anyone or anything.

She was afraid to make any friends. What if they found out? She knew they would just turn on her. Normal people are always afraid of what they cannot understand, what they cannot domesticate. She went through each day feeling nothing but anxiety and paranoia, coming home to an empty house because her brother didn't want to bring his friends home. He'd never said it out loud, but she knew it was because of her. Just like everything else wrong in their life was because of her. She closed her eyes and suppressed the tears. She was tired of crying, sick of the feeling of helplessness. She couldn't change herself, no matter how much she wanted, no matter how hard she tried.

There was nothing else for her to do, than to withdraw into the shelter of her own self. Her mind worked as a different world, a world where she was like everyone else, where she was someone important. She would sit for hours fanaticising about a life away from persecution and eternal fear.

The world was like a minefield; you never knew when the next step would be fatal. And she didn't like it one bit.

It was Saturday morning in the middle of June when her mother awoke her. There was an odd urgency in her voice this morning as she called for her daughter. Something was up, and moving fast. Drowsily she yawned and got up. As she reached the middle of the stairs down into the kitchen she realized they were all sitting there, her mother, father and brother. Their faces were grave, stale expressions and tensed shoulders. They used to treat her like she was a loose cannon, but not like this.

"Christine" her mother said, "This came with the mail this morning."

Her mother held out an invitation card of some sort. Chris took it and stared down at the neat handwriting on the front. It was addressed to her.

"It's an invitation to a boarding school outside of Westchester, New York." As soon as the words had left her mothers lips, she knew what was coming. "We have decided to accept their invitation. You can eat breakfast and then you'll go and pack your things 'cause we're leaving today. It says on the postcard that you can show up at any time so it won't be a problem."

They were sending her away. She guessed that somewhere inside her, she'd known this day would come, but she wasn't ready. Chris felt afraid. This wasn't something they had discussed over for some time, this was something they had decided here and now. The postcard had come this morning, all they had done was to see the moment and grab the opportunity. As soon as they'd left her there, she would be out of their lives. When they would look back at her shrinking figure they would sigh with relief, knowing that she'd taken her problems with her.

She clutched the card as the landscape swept by outside the window in the backseat of the car. She'd read it over and over again. It was a private owned school, founded by a man called Charles Xavier. There was a small picture of the school grounds on the back of the card. It looked nice, even beautiful with grass covered hills and the forest in the distance. The only thing that worried her was the name of the school "Xaviers school for the gifted" She hoped they didn't expect her be gifted. She had no talent, well at lest no specific talent. Chris closed her eyes and felt like crying again.

Her dad dropped her off at the head gate, and didn't help her with her stuff, or even said goodbye. He just waited for her to take her things and close the door. Then he drove off and left her there, alone, frightened and lost. Hoping she looked normal, like no one special, Chris took her bags and began walking up the road. In the distance she could see the big complex that had to be the school. It was huge, magnificent and old looking. She felt her arms tremble as she struggled with the heavy suitcases she'd brought. The trebling was more nervousness than the actual weight of the bags, but he insight brought her no joy.

She threw a glance to the far left and caught eye of a boy, approximately her age, with dirty-blonde hair. He was standing under an oak-tree, casually leaned back against its old body. In his hand he held a lighter that he flicked open, and then shut it, flicked, and then shut it. His eyes were watching Chris intensely.

For a split second, she thought she could see the small flame from his lighter dance in his open palm. Thinking she was probably hallucinating, Chris tore her eyes off the boy and concentrated on getting up to the school.

Chris reached the two massive wooden doors, still worrying about life and pretty much everything that came with it. What would she do once she was inside these doors? It wasn't like there would be a huge welcome-committee waiting inside, eager to tell her what to do, where to go and whom to talk to. Knowing that there wouldn't come solutions raining from the sky anytime soon, she took a deep breath, and pushed the left door open.

There were so many people inside, and not one of them paid her any attention at all. They all seemed so fully engaged in minding their own business. Maybe newcomers were no big news here. Feeling entirely lost and drained of strength and courage, Chris wondered what she was to do. The most logical solution was to simply ask someone, but something held her back. What if that person would look at her with the same fear and disgust that she'd seen in her parents' eyes? Hesitatingly, she looked to the left. There was a large hallway-path outside a beautifully shaped passage. It didn't look like there were any student-rooms in that direction. In front of her was the huge staircase and there were loads of students making their way in that direction. School were finished for today, so they were probably heading for their rooms, she guessed, and decided to follow.

The second floor was as much a labyrinth of hallways and corridors as the previous floor had been. She strayed around for a while, but felt like she was going in circles, and quite frankly she had made no progress at all in finding her room. When she turned around a corner, only to find an empty corridor, she'd had enough. Feeling incredibly small and insignificant, she leaned her back against the wall. There was an impressive headache pounding inside of her skull and she felt completely exhausted. This was all too much to take in at the same.

With a smothered bumping noise, the wall behind her suddenly caved and began sliding apart. Surprised and slightly annoyed over the disturbance she tumbled backwards into what seemed to be an elevator of some sort. Chris hit her head as she crashed to the ground. Tangled in the straps of her backpack and two other bags she fought to get up. Before she had the chance to free herself the elevator doors slid shut. The emblem on the door formed an 'X'

"So it's true," she thought. "X marks the spot" She felt like laughing. She'd been here for about thirty minutes or so, and she was already peeping into places that were obviously not meant for her to find. Chris silently wondered if the other students knew that there were secret elevators in this school. And what was it with the X on the door?

Soundlessly, the elevator stopped and the doors slid open again, revealing long, white corridors everywhere she turned her gaze. Knowing that the right thing to do was to go up with the elevator again, Chris stepped into the corridor and turned right into one of the corridors. Her mind said 'No' but her curiosity drove her forward into the secret underground level of the mansion. There were solid, round doors with huge X's both to her left and her right, two or three in each new corridor. Everything was stale and clinically clean, the chrome colour perfectly matched on the floor, walls and ceiling. It felt hollow, and if she'd felt like an intruder before, it was nothing compared to what she felt like now. This area was defiantly off-limits for students.

She wondered what lied inside the rooms down here, what secrets hid behind the shut doors. On the tip of her toes, Chris hurried to the next door on her left. There were no door handles, but on the left side of the door were some kind of screen, the text "Scan handprint" flashed in small letters. "Woah, what is this place… this is some top-notch security for a school" she thought, and suddenly felt like she needed to get out of here. Turning around to leave the way she came, Chris heard a voice speak behind her.

"Hello there Christine. Have you found anything of interest down here, or are you _just _lost?"

Christine felt the hair in her neck rise, the muscles in her back and shoulders stiffened. She knew there was no one behind her, there couldn't be. Her eyes had left that exact spot only seconds ago, and there was at least 20 meters to the next door. Despite all of this, she was deadly sure the voice had come from behind her. Slowly, dreading what she might find, Chris turned around and found…

Nothing, nothing at all, there was no one behind her.

"Don't be afraid Christine. My name is Charles Xavier and I founded this school. It came to my attention that you had decided to accept my offer, and that you were currently wandering around in the top-secret underground level of my school." the voice sounded humoured in a way, calm and reassuring, but humorous at the same way.

"Um, I'm really sorry about my intrusion, I was just trying to find my room," she said into thin air. "Where are you?" Chris asked, feeling dumb.

"I am currently located on the third floor, waiting for you Christine. Just as the folder said, this is a school for the gifted. If it weren't for my telepathic abilities, you wouldn't be speaking with me at this moment."

Chris was amazed, awestruck. This was a school for those of her kind, the ones her mom referred to as "filth"? Then she felt her heart sink. If they knew about the nameless malice sleeping inside her, she wouldn't be here. But if he was a psychic, would he knot know already?

"Christine, I want you to go back the way you came and take the elevator upstairs again. You will find Jean Grey waiting for you there. She will help you find the right place and I'll meet you here." the professor interrupted her thoughts. She tipped her head in a nod, and then remembered he couldn't see her and replied

"I will"

Back in the elevator she realised the walls threw her reflection back at her, and she was forced to stare into those plastic, oddly staring eyes that didn't belong to her at all. The only good thing was that she knew where to go, and what to do now. And maybe the fact that someone had recognized her existence added to that small comfort. The elevator ceased moving and the doors opened soundlessly. Outside stood a beautiful but strained looking woman. Her hair was intensely red and shimmering and her eyes held a sparkle of recognition, as if she could actually relate to Christine in a way.

The woman introduced herself as Jean Grey and told Chris to follow her. First they headed for her room, which she wouldn't be sharing with anyone, another comforting thought, and then they went to visit the professor in his study.

Charles Xavier sat by his desk as Jean and Chris entered the room. He was an elder man, but in all ways possible, not an old man. Chris found it hard to decide his age, but she'd guess he was between forty-five and fifty. As he raised his head, she noticed his eyes belonged to someone much older than himself, someone who'd seen and knew much, too much maybe.

"Hello Christine. First I want to tell you how happy I am to welcome you to this school. The second, and also last thing I am going to tell you today is that if you have any questions you are always welcome here to ask them."

This was getting better and better, Chris thought.

-----

There were maybe ten students waiting outside the classroom the following morning. Some of them turned their heads as she joined the small group. Chris turned her head away. She was feeling rather uncomfortable and misplaced. She didn't even know what the subject was, and she had no study-books to bring.

Two of the boys in the group were talking about the proposal for mutant-registration. One of the two of them seemed more upset than the other one. Chris recognized him from the day before. It was the guy with the lighter, the one with the dirty-blonde hair. She stared at the back of his leather jacket for a second reminiscing about she'd thought she'd seen him hold the fire in his palm. If all of the people here were mutants, then maybe she hadn't been hallucinating after all. Then her attention turned to the guys' friend, a tall and kind of handsome boy, somewhere around her age. His features were clean and handsome and his eyes were icy blue. He had kind eyes she thought, and then realized she was staring and turned her head away from the two of them.

A bell rang somewhere and the students waiting outside opened the door and began entering the classroom. Sheepishly she followed close behind. Well inside she picked a seat in the far back so she wouldn't attract any unwanted attention. Though she didn't have to fear what people would think of her if it came out she was a mutant, she didn't feel at home in here. Then she saw the teacher was Jean Grey from the day before, and on the board behind her stood the word "Humanity".

"The goal for today's class is to start a discussion around the topic of mutant powers and how normal people react on them." She began. In her seat, Chris tried to make herself small and inconvenient. She didn't want any questions about what she thought; she had no opinion on the matter. Except she did, but one thing she didn't feel like was to share it with everyone in here.

Jean Grey continued talking about what was called "the mutant problem". On the second row in the front sat the guy with the leather jacket. He obviously didn't think this was an interesting lesson, since her was very occupied with playing with his Zippo-lighter. Then the small flame jumped from the lighter into his hand and grew into a fireball. On his right, his friend acknowledged the fireball by touching it, instantly turning it into solid ice and it crashed to the floor with a cracking noise.

"John!" Jean said sharply.

"Sorry," the guy replied before throwing his friend an icy gaze. Chris felt her lip slightly curl and held back the small giggling that rose inside her.

Suddenly she realized everyone was looking at her. She flinched in her chair and wondered if she had in fact giggled out loud. As she met the teachers eyes she felt relieved. She hadn't giggled, Jean had asked her a question. Then the stone fell to her guts. Teacher, question, everyone was staring at her… darn. Shyly she asked if the professor would mind repeating the question.

"I asked you what your powers are Christine."

Chris felt her eyes widen and her hands tremble. Did she have to ask That question?

"I'm asking you in a purely hypothetical purpose." Jean said. Chris just shook her head and replied in a terrified voice.

"I don't have any powers"

"Of course you have Christine, you are a mutant. All mutants have abilities."

"No, it's not true, I don't, I really don't!" She exclaimed, feeling the panic enclose her, shutting out all sense of reason. She felt her hands shake and the world began to sway slowly.

"Christine, are you okay?" Jean sounded worried. She wasn't okay, not at all. What were they all expecting from her? Didn't they understand, she couldn't talk about it, it wasn't real, nothing but a nightmare. She didn't have any power or ability, Christine was plain.

"Please, please" she pleaded. "I can't talk about it."

Chris staggered out of class as soon as it ended. She felt miserable and terribly humiliated. Now everyone would think she was some kind of freak, an emotional wreck or something. She was walking blindly through corridors. It was lunchtime, but she didn't know where the dining room was, and after her breakdown in class, she couldn't ask anyone either. Chris was so into her own thought she didn't look where she walked and suddenly she bumped right onto someone. It was the guy from class, John something, Zippo-guy.

"Woah, you better watch were you are going." He said. She turned her gaze to the floor and mumbled an excuse.

"Sorry" and then she began walking away from him, fast.

"Hey, new girl.. Wait, um, Christine was it?" He called behind her. She stopped and he caught up.

"Aren't you going to eat something for lunch?"

"I don't know where to go." She replied coldly and turned to face him. He had dark hazel eyes.

"Um, well okay then. I guess I'll show you," he said. "You can sit with me and Bobby."

Chris thought that Bobby must be the blue eyed boy he'd been talking to before. She accepted the offer, and somewhere inside of her, inside that confused and scared place she held, she felt a bit of calm reach in. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

-----

And here she was now, and it wasn't so bad. Bobby, Rogue and John seemed like they were potential friends, and she really missed having real friends. Then only sad thing was that she wouldn't see _him _anymore. Her chance of ever finding out who he was had been lost, maybe forever.

It was a sad thought indeed


	2. 2: The one with the rooftop

**A/N: **Thank you to the lovely reviewers who've taken the time to give some love! As you might have noticed I have rearranged the first three chapters, making it one longer first chapter. Here comes the second, hope you'll enjoy it!

**Chapter 2: Somewhere on a rooftop**

**-----**

"Hey, new girl, wait!"

She groaned. Why has he so persistent in calling her "New girl"? And why did he follow her now, he hadn't said a word to her during lunch, he'd just been sitting there, toying with that shark-faced lighter. She slowed down a bit, but only a bit. If he wanted a catch, he would have to run for it.

He caught up by the time she reached the stairs. They walked up together, and Chris had a nasty little feeling in her gut. Something told her he was throwing small glances at her. It was the eyes, those cursed, plastic looking eyes she thought. Why did she still wear those anyway? Xaviers' was a school for mutants, some with very visual mutations like fur, blue skin… claws, stuff like that. But if she didn't wear them, everyone would see, and they would ask more questions.

"Where are we going?"

Ah, when you speak of questions. She resisted the urge to correct him and tell him _She_ was going to someplace quiet. Only she didn't know where such a place existed. Things were up on the move all the time here it seemed, and she felt she had to find a quiet place.

"I'm trying to find a place t think." That was good, now she didn't need to correct him. If he had a brain he would figure it out for himself. To her disappointment, it didn't seem like he understood what she was trying to say. Instead, he looked very pleased with himself.

"I know a place."

They climbed up to the roof from the highest floor. Chris had the feeling this was both dangerous and not allowed, but who cares? From the rooftop they climbed up to the top of the tower.

It was the perfect place to think. The setting sun had spent the day heating up the stone the mansion was built of, and now it was warm and cosy to sit down on it. And here came the best part, it was quiet. There were no students running around making a fuss by using their powers, no teachers who asked you how your day had been. It was perfect. She climbed up on the low stonewall and let her legs dangle over the edge in mid-air. On her left, John did the same. Chris played with a streak of her honey-blonde hair, wrapping it around her finger, making it curl slightly more as she released it.

"It's not natural, is it?" John said. With a sinking feeling in her guts, Chris wondered which he was talking about, the hair or the eyes. To her relief, he continued before she had to ask.

"Your hair colour I mean. You know Rogues' hair isn't natural either, she got those white streaks on Liberty Island."

"You're right, it's not natural, but I've dyed mine since I don't like my original colour." She answered, careful not to sound snappy. He asked too much questions, but she liked the company.

"So, how long has she and Bobby been a couple?" Chris continued when John didn't say anything further on the topic of her hair. His jaw line tensed a bit.

"Don't know, since she came here."

I had a sudden revelation. He was jealous, not because Bobby had Rouge and vice versa, but because they had each other. This made him the third wheel, and he felt left out.

"You know what? You are happy to have friends like that. I've never had friends before I came here." Chris tried to cheer him up. It didn't seem to have any effect on him however. He seemed to be a one-track kind of guy.

"And you have friends now?" He asked. You could see this as a mean thing to say, but there was nothing like that in his voice, he was just asking.

"Well, since you are following me around wherever I go, then I guess _you _are my friend." She replied humorously.

He actually laughed a bit and he became more relaxed than she'd seen him before.

"Guess I am then."

They were quiet for a while. Chris turned her gaze to the horizon. Outside the school grounds lay a great forest. She'd always loved the forest, and since she was from Maine, she'd spent a lot of time in the forest when she was younger. Before her mutation began to change her and her parents forbade her to go outside the house except from when she was in school..

"John, your mutation… it has something to do with fire, right?"

"Yeah," he answered with a passionate sting in his voice. He flicked open the shark-faced lighter, and a second later the flame danced on his palm, it grew and then shrunk again. "I can manipulate fire…" He closed his hands and the flame died. "…but not create it." He finished. The bitterness in his voice told her that he greatly regretted that latter part. It also told her something else, he was proud of being different, he liked it. It made him change from no one in particular to someone special.

"Then I envy you." Chris said, and she really meant it. The thought of having a gift that you loved like he did, that was something new to her. "I on the other hand am afraid of my power." Chris turned to look him in the eye. She hoped that he would somehow see through the plastic expression of nothingness in her eyes.

"I hate it, and I'm afraid of it. But no matter how much I suppress it and deny it. It's still in here," She raised her left hand and tapped her temple. "It infiltrates my consciousness and feeds off my mind… And I hate it!" She exclaimed angrily. She gazed to the horizon again.

In the distant, by the edge of the forest stood someone, a dark shape, barely visible in the forests shadowy loom. Though she couldn't see the persons face, she knew whom it was, and her heart filled with joy. Then she heard it, the music. Tunes from a song older than the memory of mankind could recall sounded through the peacefulness. The music was soft, inviting. It gave life to your fantasies and made you forget your earthly problems. For a while, you could even forget yourself…


	3. 3: The one with the movie

**Chapter 3**

**------**

It was Thursday morning in the late of August. Professor Charles Xavier, a man who had dedicated his whole life to helping mutants, felt concerned. The television in his office had just shown a report from the white house. Surprisingly the report had shown a sequence of senator Kelly leaving the oval office. This was particularly peculiar since had died from the effects of Magneto's last invention that turned Homo sapiens into mutants. The senators' body had rejected the mutation and he'd died only hours after arriving to the mansion, and yet there he was on the screen. Only it wasn't the senator, it was Mystique, Magnetos right hand.

The middle-aged man raised his head as he sensed a presence outside his office door. It was Christine, and she was early.

"_Come in dear child."_

Chris who'd raised her hand to know let it slip down to the handle. She forgot that the professor was a telepath, just like she forgot that everyone else in this school was also a mutant. Gently she pushed the door open and stepped inside. As soon as she saw him, she knew what this meeting was going to be all about. She felt a stone sink to the pit of her stomach. She closed the door behind her and went to take a seat by the professors' desk.

"Now Christine, I suspect you know why you are here." Truth to be told, he knew that I knew why I was here, and we both knew it. The professor was a great man, in his deeds and his philosophy, but he was so concerned for the big picture. Sure, he cared for the students here, very much, and he would sacrifice his life to save us. But when there's so many of us here, it's hard to see them all, to know and nurture them all. The reason why I was here was because of the awfulness I held within. A terrible, godforsaken force and now he wanted me to "learn to control it." Just the bare thought of controlling it was ridiculous

"I can't discuss it with you professor. I'm sorry but that's the way it is."

His eyes wielded nothing about how he felt. His whole presence was calm, he was a father figure to many of these students, a leader and a patriarch.

"I am sorry to hear that Christine. You know, many students come here resenting their powers. Many of them lack both hope and courage, but not you. I have never had one student so determined to suppress their powers, so determined to erase who they are. And yet, though you want to run from yourself, you have hope, and I believe you even have courage.

Maybe you are right if you say that your ability cannot be controlled. What if I say that even if I can't change who you are, maybe I can help you understand."

Chris looked into his eyes, and she knew he did want to help her. But she also heard that voice in the back of her mind. The voice screaming that she couldn't do it, she couldn't let herself slip again. If she began, who knew where it would stop? If it ever would stop… But Xavier was right, she had hope. And then she decided.

"When I begin, there is no way to undo it. If I am lucky, maybe I can stop it before it's too late… otherwise we'll just have to kill it."

Christine got up on her feet. She backed away from the desk to make sure the professor wouldn't be to close to her. Then Chris braced herself and made a silent prayer that all would go well. Then she closed her eyes and concentrated.

A dark shadow appeared on the carpet by her right side, then a dark shape began to grow out of it. It became taller and taller. At first it was ghostly transparent, you could almost see through the cloaked figure, but soon it seemed to begin to materialize as well. Christine's features became strained, she was trying to stop the thing from materializing by straining the connection to the source of the power. It stabilized and the thing stopped developing somewhere between being transparent and a real body.

It stood silent. The thing was at least 6,5 feet tall, its breathing was heavy and hissing. The silence lay thick in the room, the only sound breaking it was the things heavy breathing. Its ominous presence seemed to make the air go cold inside the professors' office. Chris knew she had to end this soon, if she held on to it any longer she would lose her power over this creature and it would break loose and stray into this world. The professor notified her struggle just in time.

"That's enough Christine, you can let it go."

Christine broke the connection in her mind and with a ghostly sigh, the shape turned into smoke and disappeared. She felt weak and totally drained. Producing them was easy, trying to control them was a whole different thing, and they didn't like being restrained. This one had been different than the first. The first had been a miserably looking huge creature with a lipless mouth filled with sharp teeth. Its skull was cracked open revealing a surprisingly large brain and they eyes were two slits in the parchment skin. Its body was light with very long legs and the whole body looked emaciated. This one had been something entirely different, something much stronger.. and malevolent.

The first one had come the day of her birthday. Her mother came in that morning without knowing of her daughters' condition and found that Chris's hair had turned to silver gray and her eyes were white and empty. The rest of her family had come into the room, and there had been an argument. Her mother insisted she was to be thrown out immediately whilst her father pleaded that she would stay. Her mother dragged her down to the kitchen, shrieking something about how they would talk this over to find a solution. She was told she would be better off alone, fending for herself. The terrified Christine suddenly felt something blossom within her… and then _it_ came.

It felt like a relief to Christine, she knew it wouldn't harm her, she knew that she was its master. But then her mother uttered a terrified scream and the creature turned to her. A hellish growl rose within its throat, and its eyes began to glow like burning bits of coal inside its head. And now Chris understood that the creature was beyond her control, it would kill her mother, and then the rest of her family. She felt disgusted and relieved at the same time. If it killed them she wouldn't have to see that look in their eyes anymore, they would become hollow and unseeing, like empty caves.

She heard a door slam, and hasty footsteps came running down the staircase, and then her father entered the kitchen with his rifle. He placed it leaning against his elbow, and then he raised it. She saw the same fear and loathing in his eyes that she saw every time he looked at her, and then he shot it, three times. It didn't die at first, just raised its clawed hands to the hole in its gut. A squealing cry escaped its throat, spreading a small cascade of black blood over the kitchen floor. Cramping and twitching, the fourth shot brought it down on its knees. The cries became pleading and Christine felt something in her heart crack. Then her father shot it in the head, and it died staring at Christine like a child is looking at its mother. Then Christine was left to clean up the mess, crying. She had been afraid of it, but it still felt like her family had murdered a piece of her. This was the feeling of a mother who had been forced to watch her only child die. It was then she promised to never do it again, it hurt too much to kill another one, but it was too malevolent to be left alive. So she cleaned, and wept.

The professor listened to her story silently. He was a good listener and his excellent mind was processing the events while she told him. After she finished her story, he sat quiet for some minutes. Chris sat down again, waiting for him to speak.

"I believe that your power is your ability to conjure these creatures and then master them, but at that time you were too young and too scared. But the purpose of this school is to train you to control your gifts, and with training, I do believe it's possible. You know, most mutants are too young to handle their powers during the first years, especially since you developed them at such an early age. But I do have faith in you Christine.

As I said before, I see courage in you."

She left the professors office feeling relieved and maybe a tad excited. They had decided that she would have private sessions with Jean until she was ready to use her powers in the Danger Room-sessions. Until then she would have to rely on her combat skills, which unfortunately were limited, but she was fast and flexible, so she felt confident. Things were improving every hour she spent here.

She met up with Bobby, Rogue, Kitty and John a short while later. They agreed to eat lunch outside since the weather was so stunningly wonderful. The others chatted cheerfully as they walked down the grassy slope and passed by the pond. Chris noticed that there was some tension between Rogue and Kitty. As soon as Kitty addressed Bobby a little frown appeared on Rogues face, and her eyes became uneasy. Christine didn't understand why Rogue felt threatened by this girl who was two years younger than Bobby but looked another two years younger than she actually was. But maybe Rogue sensed something Chris didn't, after all she didn't know these guys all that well.

The perfect spot lied just by the brink of the forest beside the oak tree where she'd first seen John stand. They all sat down in the grass and began to feast on their lunch. There were other students doing the same thing scattered all over the school grounds. Christine noticed the others threw her small glances now and then. It was Rogue who spoke first and as usual, she went right for the core.

"So, how was your meeting with the professor?"

Chris was just about to tell them what she and Xavier had decided when she heard a very familiar sound behind her. A flute, but not just any flute. She knew that this one was small and looked like it was made of glass, and she knew this because she had one herself. It had been a gift from the Angel of Music, and in a way it was how they communicated, he played a melody and she followed.

Quickly she got on her feet and fished for the flute in her pocket. She knew this melody very well, it was their expression of joy. She found the flute and began to answer him. There was something in the melody that was different today, it was faster, much more tempting. And then she knew it was a lot closer than ever before.

A smile suddenly graced Christine's lips. Her eyes began to glow and she dropped the sandwich she was holding. The change in her was remarkable; her whole being seemed to light up. She climbed to her feet and turned to face the forest. Bobby and Rogue exchanged a quick glance. Her features held the shimmer of a girl in love and the way she was scouting the edge of the forest suggested excitement. John took his eyes off his lighter and looked up at Chris. He slightly tilted his head to the side. There was something odd about the way she acted, the intensity in her eyes before she got up. Then the last shivering tone died out and the spell lifted off Chris. She turned back to them and sat down again. She had this really satisfied expression in her unnaturally blue eyes. Kitty leaned a bit forward, smiling.

"So, what was that?" Her eyes were glowing with excitement. Bobby threw John a glance and raised one eyebrow. This began to sound like girl talk. But then she surprised them all.

"I have never seen his face…" she began, and then her eyes became distant again. And then she opened her mouth and sang, with the voice of an angel _"__But his voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound... In that night there was music in my mind... And through music my soul began to soar! And I heard as I'd never heard before..." _she finished. Then she looked at them all, witch such piercing intensity they felt like looking away, but were unable to do it.

"He's the Angel of Music." Chris exclaimed with a dreamy expression.

"Wow, awesome! I wish I had a mysterious gentleman who would sing beautiful songs for me." Kitty's eyes were spelling "R, O, M, A, N, C, E" with huge letters. Rogue pulled her boyfriends sleeve.

"Bobby, can you sing." She joked, and Bobby explained that if he ever tried to stun her with his song there would likely be two huge guys coming here in no time. They would probably take him straight to the insanity asylum, throw him inside a closet and poke him with wooden sticks. They all laughed to that and Rogue gave Bobby a small hug, reassuring him that it didn't matter that he couldn't sing, he was just fine anyway.

"So John, do you sing?" Chris suddenly burst out. John laughed and held his hands up in a defensive gesture.

"No way," he snorted. This confounded Chris somehow. For a second there she could have sworn that he had a nervous sway in his voice. The others didn't seem to notice it however, and they just went back to eating their lunch. Brushing it off her shoulders, Chris told herself that she had just imagined John's insecurity.

Hours later that day after classes were done for today, Chris headed for her room. She was just going up the stairs to the third floor, trying not to bump into anyone when she thought she saw a familiar face standing by the rail looking down over the common room. It was Kitty and she wore this odd flustered look. She was just standing there by the rail with her books pressed against her chest leaning against the rail with a somewhat distant look in her eyes. Chris had a feeling about this, and her feelings were often proven right, so she decided to look into this.

Carefully she approached Kitty, making sure she wouldn't scare her off before she knew what this was about. When she was only five feet away, she dropped the sneaking act and just casually walked to the rail and leaned on it in a relaxed sort of way. She immediately saw what Kitty was looking at; Rogue and Bobby were cuddling on a sofa down in the common room. And suddenly she understood why Rogue was so tense around Kitty. She sensed the danger, even though Bobby was totally oblivious to the fact. Maybe Rogue was sharper than Chris first had thought?

"It's Bobby, right?" She asked Kitty with a whisper. The noise the other students were making was enough to hide her words even if she'd spoken aloud, but Chris wanted to show some discretion and tactfulness. Kitty flinched as though she hadn't noticed her standing there at all. She looked like someone who'd been caught with his hands in the cookie jar.

"Oh... eh, well you know. He has Rogue. I don't think he want anyone else than her." She sounded sad, and Chris actually felt sorry for her.

"That sucks… but you know, many things change with time. Maybe you'll get your chance one day." Christine said and blinked to Kitty before she turned away and wandered off.

* * *

**Critique? Anything... please?**


	4. 4: The one in the Danger Room

**Chapter 4**

------

Friday passed by without anything special happened. Chris was adapting to the new classes she was taking and everything was in order. There had been no reports on anything that affected mutants in any greater way; Magneto was still in prison and Mystique was still impersonating the senator. Christine felt like it was the deep breath before the plunge, everything was calm, way too calm.

She would be participating in her first Danger Room-session next Monday, and the thought made her feel somewhat excited She had met with Jean during lunch and they had worked really hard on her self-control. Jean had told her that it was all about concentration in her case. If she learned to concentrate, she would be able to master this awful gift of hers. Though Chris didn't see how her power would ever do anything good to anyone, she didn't let this push her down; she saw it as a challenge. The only thing that held her back was the thought of being forced to kill another one of her creatures. She couldn't even stand the thought of it, it was too painful. She told herself that she wouldn't let her end up in such a situation ever again, and then she would be fine.

Curious of what there was on the two remaining floors in the mansion, she turned her steps towards the staircase leading to the fourth floor. She was disappointed to find that there was nothing more interesting here than closed bedroom doors. There seemed to be no students around for the moment; Chris guessed they were involved in afternoon activities rather than spending time alone in their rooms. Suddenly she wondered where the teachers slept, maybe they had their own section in the mansion?

Without looking where she was going, Chris turned her pace around a corner, and bumped straight into someone. She stumbled backwards and lost her balance and fell in a pile on the floor. When she looked up she saw John standing over her. He was reaching out his right hand, offering to help her up. She took it and climbed to her feet.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't look where I was going." Chris laughed understandingly and shrugged.

"Well, me neither, so I apologize too," she replied. John looked at her, and then she saw the corner of his mouth curl upwards. He was a totally different person when she was alone with him. As soon as he was with his friends, he didn't pay her any attention at all. He was odd in that way, ignoring her with his friends, but as soon as they met alone, he was… nice. Christine actually liked him.

"So, what are you up to this evening?" She asked, genuinely interested. His eyes flickered to his right and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Um, well Bobby's with Rogue somewhere so I'm kinda flying solo tonight.." He paused and pursed his mouth like there was something else ha wanted to say. Chris tilted her head to the side, just to show him that she was still waiting. "Eumm, so how bout you?"

"I was planning to eat a serious load of ice cream and watch the latest Scream movie." Chris babbled enthusiastically, and then she went on to ranting about how scary the two previous films were, and how high hopes she had for this third and last one. Suddenly she realized how fast she was talking and managed to control herself.

"Oh, okay… have fun then." John said, sounding disappointed, and turned to go. Wait; was it something she'd said?

"_Wait a minute," _she thought. _"Right, I forgot to ask him."_

"Hey John, wait. Do you wanna join me? It would be very sad to be watching horror movies all alone."

He lit up and agreed, it would be very sad. Chris actually felt a bit happier too, any company was good company. Wait, no that didn't some out right; it sounded like she'd rather have someone else to spend the evening with. Actually she couldn't think of anyone better to be stuffing herself with ice-cream and watching Scream with. Chris went back to her room to drop off her things. Realizing she hadn't found out what there was on the fifth floor, she stopped and considered going back.

She decided not to however. Instead she would take a long, hot shower and maybe put on some makeup and nice clothes. Chris had never felt the urge to do anything like that before, especially since she was only going to watch a movie with John, but now she did, and it was actually rather nice. Humming, she fastened her pace while musing about how much makeup was _just _right, not too much, and not too little.

------

He was sitting on the counter when she entered the kitchen. Christine stumbled over the doorstep and almost fell. Feeling rather sheepish she grabbed a firm hold of the refrigerators handle and smiled. She had put on a discrete makeup and for the first time in years, she wore a skirt. She'd spent a long time in front of the mirror pondering about which length was appropriate. She decided for a loose black one that reached to her knees. It felt slightly odd to be dressed up like this, but when she saw the look John gave her, she forgot to feel uncomfortable.

He sat on the counter, nonchalantly leaned back with a coke in his right hand. He was raising the bottle to take a gulp, but stopped dead in the motion. He blinked, once, then again. He looked at her with a devious expression, diverse in a way. Feeling rather pleased with herself, she went to the freezer.

"So, which ice cream do you prefer?" She asked. Chris had a piercing feeling that he was watching her very intensely, letting his eyes sweep over her. To be honest, Christine had nothing against this, actually, she had a rather good feeling inside of her. It took him some seconds to reply.

"Vanilla." Chris smiled

"I should have known you were a vanilla-type of guy. I'll go for the strawberry then." She grabbed the cold packets of ice cream and handed one to John along with a spoon. They turned off the light in the ceiling and headed for the TV-room on the first floor. Christine had booked the TV there yesterday, and since she'd written "Horror" under the 'Programs' column, she knew it would be empty of people. Most students here were younger than her, and the older ones had already had their share of horror in real life. Let's just say that horror-films were not that popular here. She didn't mind however, being alone with John was a lot more pleasant than being with John and friends. He was always showing off, doing stupid things when Bobby, Rogue or anyone else was around, and he usually didn't speak to her at all. Chris sensed it had something to do with him wanting to feel superior, he wanted to be seen and respected, but to be honest she had a feeling that there was more to it than that. Maybe she would ask him about it tonight…

As she'd expected, the room was dark and deserted. Enthusiastically she bounced to the opposite wall and turned on the lamp in the window. The darkness outside was pressing against the glass, they wouldn't need to close the drapes to get the right atmosphere in here. She went on and grabbed the DVD from the bookshelf and placed it in the recorder.

They spent the next one and a half hour hidden behind pillows, squealing when the movie got intense. Chris wasn't easily spooked by movies in which the killer was supernatural, but this one had a killer who was human. She knew that things like this occurred in real life, and that frightened her more than a movie ever could. Her stomach ached after all the freezing cold ice cream, and she had eaten way too much of it. When the last scene ended she sighed with relief.

"Why do people, including me, expose themselves to this?"

"Don't really know. It's the thrill I guess" came the answer from John. "Why did you dye your hair?" he went on. Chris felt speechless for a slight second. How do you explain something like that? Her voice was small and saddened when she replied.

"This used to be my natural colour. My mutation changed its colour."

"That doesn't answer the question. It's okay if you don't…" He didn't finish the sentence, just stared at the wall with a distant expression. She bit her lip, he was right, she hadn't answered the question.

"I guess that when your mutation effect your appearance you find yourself unable to hide. Everyone sees what you are the moment they lay their eyes on you. I dyed my hair as a way for me to be someone else, you know." Chris hesitated. "And these aren't real either" she said with determination, and then took her lenses out. She was done pretending, you can't forget yourself, you'll just have to live with it. She saw his surprise when he realized her eyes were pale and white instead of the plastic blue. He hadn't seriously thought they were real, had he? With disgust she dropped the lenses in the empty ice cream bottle.

------

Monday morning was the time for her first Danger Room-session. Chris felt nervous and helpless. Almost all the others had their powers to protect them, only Rogue has as exposed and vulnerable as herself, and that thought was no comfort.

"So, what do we do inside the Danger Room?" She leaned to Rogue and asked.

"The room is a hologram, so we never really know what waits inside."

Chris gulped, this was getting increasingly spooky. The name of the room alone was enough to scare her, and now Rogue made it sound even worse when they didn't know what waited inside. She scanned the room looking for John, but he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he'd overslept? She turned back to Rogue and saw that Bobby had joined them. In the far back of the corridor, Kitty entered and began walking towards them. _"Dream team gathered" _she thought.

"Um, do you guys know where John's at?"

Rogue threw Bobby a quick glance. Kitty reached the small group, apparently she'd heard what Chris asked the other girl.

"He doesn't always show up. You thought he might love to use his powers to blow things up, and he does, but he gets a little bit… caught up in the moment sort of speak. The teachers always nag on him how he should practise some self-control. I guess it takes away the fun."

Chris thought Kitty hit it right on the head; she had a strong feeling John didn't like to be controlled.

To their great surprise, he joined them right before the class started. He came striding into view, apparently totally unaffected by the fact that he'd almost been late.

Since they were few in this class the teachers decided that they should work together as a group this morning. This suited Chris just fine, maybe they wouldn't have to scrape her of the floor when they were done.

The doors slid open, and the small group darted inside. The team leader was Jean Grey, and she ordered to work together in order to make it out. The place was a wasteland, literally speaking. High formations of rocks made it hard to see what was behind the next corner and the dry sand was difficult to run in. It was dark and cold, just like a night in the desert. Chris saw the tall shape of Colossus run to her left. Eager not be left behind she attempted to follow him, but his much longer strides increased their distance for every second. Chris was not much of a help in there, she tried her best to dodge the attacks from the Bedouin force they were fighting against, but still had to be saved several times.

She decided that since she couldn't do anything helpful, she would try to find a safe place and hide there until it was over. Slowly and cautiously she climbed over a smaller rock when a pillar of fire shot passed her. _"John" _she thought. The heat was so intense and a smell of burned textile filled her nostrils. Someone screamed, and one of the Bedouins came staggering to her right, set ablaze by the deadly flames. Chris closed her eyes and tried to think about something else than the man shrieking. They were training for battle, an upcoming war, and she knew that. But Chris had never been much of a warrior, she wanted logic and order in her life. The thought of what people did to each other during war was frightening her. The Bedouin fell to the ground and became silent and she felt she could move again.

There was a gap in the rocky landscape in front of her, and then another formation of rocks. There was no other way for her except for the one ahead. She figured if she were fast she would be able to cross the gap without being discovered. Bracing herself, she prepared to run the fastest she could. And then she rose to her feet and sped out in the open. The sound of her heartbeats were pounding inside her head, and her feet felt light and swift, the adrenaline was burning in her veins. And then she reached the middle of the gap, and the sand became deeper and slippery. She felt her speed decrease, and then she lost her footing and fell face down in the sand. It felt somewhat like falling into a cold pool of water, the sand was freezing against her body and face, and she knew she was screwed.

"Chris, watch out!" someone yelled, and she raised her head and saw Bobby standing ahead with Kitty behind him. She crawled to her knees and turned around to look behind her. The Bedouin raised his gun at her and a single thought touched her mind. _"So this is where I'm going to die…" _She closed her eyes and gave up. She would never get away, she didn't even have time left to move, it would be all over within a second. She felt anger sting her heart a bit, she had asked for nothing of this. She'd told them she was no warrior. Some people are born heroes, but some just aren't meant for great things. The adrenaline was still pumping inside her, and suddenly something clicked inside her head, like someone had turned the light switch to 'on'. Then she heard the shots, one two three times, and waited for the pain to come.

Except it didn't.

Instead she heard a tormented whining and a rush of air passed her. She tore her eyes open and saw the ravaging beast dart towards the Bedouin with terrifying speed. The man had no time to react before the monster was upon him, and with a swing of its muscular, clawed hand threw the man in the air. He landed sever feet away, and with a roar the best was upon him again. With a growl it opened its jaws and locked them around the man's head and tore it off. Then the creature let go of the man's limp body and rose on its crooked hind legs. Chris immediately knew something was wrong when it turned and staggered towards her. Three holes in its chest area were pumping out blood, and the creature seemed to weaken by the second. The realization hit her like a wall.

"Nooooo!" She howled and jumped to her feet. Slipping in the deep sand and almost losing her balance she ran to the creature, _her _creature. It sunk to its knees before she could reach it, and then gracefully fell to the ground. Its tormented whimpering cut her heart like a thousand knives and she threw herself to her knees by its side. Crouching over the dying monster she felt her body tremble. Her shaking hands stroke the parchment skin the same way a mother touch her baby. Chris felt something break inside her, and her vision blurred. She stroke it over the head and whispered soothing words to it.

"_Sch, don't cry, I'm here now. You did good, I'll take care of you, schh…" _The hologram dissolved around her and disappeared. They were inside a grey room, and the ground was not sand anymore, but hard metal. She cried and covered its body under hers, praying for whatever God there was to not let it die, though she knew, she knew all too well. One last shiver travelled through its body, and then it became still and peaceful. Chris wrenched her head back and screamed off the top of her lungs, roared in sorrow and despair. Then she rested her head against the creatures shoulder and wept.

"They killed my baby, they killed it," she cried, over and over again. She wasn't aware of the people behind her anymore. The rest of her class and Jean were standing behind, unsure of what to do. They looked at one another, then back to the girl again. Her body was shaking and she covered the creature, as if to shield it from harms way. Her tormented cries echoed in the room, back and forth, over and over again.

"_They killed my baby, they killed it…"_

------

**Reviews are love! **


	5. 5: The one where Christine looses it

Chris had lost all control over her own body, tears were flooding down her face and she was shaking uncontrollable. That wasn't the worst part however; the worst part was what was going on within her. She felt disgusted, like she was about to hurl, and there was this pressure over her chest that prevented her from breathing. It felt as if her body was too small to contain all these feelings at the same time, it felt like she was falling apart, again and again. She had no memory of how she had gotten back to her room, it was all a blur. Every time she felt like she was ready to pull through, she came crashing down only a minute later.

"_Is this what dying feels like?"_

She crawled to her bedside on all four but had no strength left to get into it. She collapsed by its side, crying harder than before. She felt cold, though the warmth inside the room, and she curled in a foetal position. She wanted them to go away, the memories, but she was so sick of running from herself. She was tired of pretending to be normal, or at least as normal as a mutant can be. No matter how much she wanted to believe the lie, it was never real, and it would never be real either. Though embracing yourself and the world might sound easy, Chris knew that it wasn't. She was afraid, that the feeling inside her would grow, that the emptiness would swallow her. She closed her eyes and wished to fade away

She awoke and tore her eyes open. Then sun was hanging low outside the window and the shadows were tall. Chris wondered how long she'd been sleeping. There was a soft knock on the door and she called for whoever was outside to hold on for a minute. Then she practically fell out of the bed and hit the floor with a hard thud. Groaning she fought to get up on her feet and then she staggered over to the mirror. Her left hip ached from the fall and it would certainly bruise, apart from that, she seemed to be fine. Her face in the mirror was pale and her eyes were tired. There had never been any sparkle in her white stare, but now they seemed dimmer than ever before. It felt as if there was something inside of her that wanted out, but she didn't want it to come out. She repressed it, and then went to the door.

"Who is it?" she called and was amazed by how small her voice was.

"It's me, Rogue" she heard from outside and Chris opened the door and let the girl in.

"Hey," Rogue said and the look in her eyes was concerned. "How are you feeling?"

Chris shrugged and sat down on her bed, avoiding Rogue's eyes. The girl sat down beside her, and after a moment's hesitation, she grabbed Chris's hand. Thankful, Chris held her gloved hand tightly, clutching onto it as if she was drowning and Rogue was her only rescue.

"I can never understand what you must feel like," she said and her soft southern accent became more prominent than it usually was. "But I want to believe that we were given these abilities and feelings for some purpose, that it's more to it than just the pain."

Right then, Christine hoped that she was right.

John was up late as usual. It wasn't that he couldn't sleep; he just preferred to stay awake sometimes. He was now headed back to his room however, the time was almost midnight and tomorrow was a school day. He held his Zippo-lighter in a firm but gentle grip, this small thing that put him in contact with the one thing that made him stand apart from other people, the thing that made him better than them. The fire, it was within him, an obsession as much as a gift. He loved it much more than he hated it, and would never trade it away for anything in the world.

The sound of footsteps attracted his attention, and he quickly decided to see who was sneaking about in this late hour. Silently he began trailing the person ahead. The person had very light feet, and his or her footsteps were barely audible. Then he suddenly heard the sound of music, the shivering tone from a flute. This was getting peculiar, but strange as it may be, it wasn't as if he had any more important place to be.

He entered the room where the main stair was located, and with amazement he realized that it was Christine who was walking around. He hadn't seen her since the incident in the danger room earlier today. She had been devastated then, crying uncontrollably, but there was no trace of sorrow on her face now.

He realized something was wrong. Christine had a dreamy and distant look upon her features. Her eyes were dim and distant, and she seemed totally unaware of her own body. The music grew stronger and John could now see who was creating it. A tall young man with raven hair was playing a small flute. He was standing in the middle of the great hall under the chandelier, his long fingers moved over the flute with rapid speed and his eyes was fixed upon the spellbound girl. It might seem harmless, but the look on the strangers face was grim and cold. John realized that Chris was acting under some sort of hypnosis, most certainly caused by the music.

"Christine!" he called to her and began jogging closer to the stairs. He had such a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt that if this man grabbed a hold of her, he would never let her go. "Chris, stop, don't get any closer!"

The man's eyes jumped off Christine and for a short second he was staring right at john, then he seemed to dissolve into thin air. His physic presence became a pale ghostly image, and then he was gone. Chris slowly turned around and her eyes drifted around without really looking at anything. He reached the bottom of the stairs and grabbed her arm, turning her face to him. She stared right through him for one second, then she flinched and her eyes stopped drifting.

"John," she said. "What are you doing up this late?"


	6. 6: The one with the new roommate

Chris woke up late that Sunday morning. Drowsily she opened one eye and threw a glance on the digital watch that was standing on top of the table beside her bed. The numbers said it was 10:30, and with a feeling of horror, Chris shut her eye again, thinking that she must be hallucinating. The time just couldn't be that much, it was impossible. Why hadn't she awoken like she usually did? She tore her eyes open again. _"Oh shit, it really is ten-thirty." _She groaned and began dragging herself out of bed. Searching the floor of her room, Chris found a pair of jeans that were still fairly clean. She went over to her closet and dug inside of it, finding a camel-coloured blouse. She made a disgusted face, beige always made her look deathly pale. Putting it on, she made a mental note that it was time to do some shopping. The mirror on the wall seemed to call for her; with a sigh Chris gave in and walked to it, placing herself in front of it, facing her own reflection. She had always had very bright skin, and that combined with her natural silver hair colour and bone white eyes made her seem almost colourless. Though her hair was now blonde Chris still remembered the pale self that one day greeted her in the mirror.

She knew that all girls wished they looked different, that they had a smaller nose, slimmer thighs, fuller lips, and curvy hips, stuff like that. Chris was happy with her body, but she hated her pale skin and hair colour. She thought that compared to other colourful people she looked lifeless. Letting her gaze trail away from her own reflection, Chris pondered about whether she would get a roommate or not. Many of the other kids here had roommates, Rogue did, Bobby and Pyro were roommates, truth to be told, almost everyone here lived in groups of two or three people. She would like to have someone else stay in her room. Sometimes when she woke in the middle of the night from one of her nightmares, she had this idle wish for closeness to another person.

Her thoughts were interrupted by an energetic knock on her bedroom door. The person outside obviously didn't bother to await a reply, because the next second the doorknob turned and the door swung open with a bang as it hit the opposite wall. A blond storm wind came sweeping into the room, throwing bags and boxes in all directions.

"Hi, I'm Amiee!" the girl exclaimed wearing the biggest smile Chris had ever seen. Surprised and confused, Chris felt she should say something.

"Um, h-hello," she stuttered. "I'm…"

"Oh I know, you are Christine Duveau, right?" Amiee interrupted. Christine just nodded confirming. This girl was really outgoing, Chris thought that she would make a good roomie.

"Hope you don't mind me moving in here. I can be kind of messy sometimes, but if you yell at me I promise I'll clean up" the girl bubbled on. She seemed to radiate some strange sort of energy, something like… could it be happiness? It was long since Chris had seen pure happiness; she felt relieved in a sort of way.

"Oh, I don't mind at all. Actually, I was just thinking of how I kinda wanted someone else to live in here. Gets kind of lonely sometimes, since, well everyone else has a roommate or two."

"Good, guess we're cool then" Amiee smiled and began showing her clothes into her drawers. Chris turned around and began picking up her own clothes from the floor, throwing the dirty clothes into the laundry basket and folding the clean clothes, carefully putting them into her closet. Behind her, Amiee finished her unpacking by stuffing all her shoes under her bed, and then she sat down on it and watched Chris.

"Hey, that's a pretty blouse you're wearing. Too bad it aint your colour."

Chris turned around and faced the other girl.

"You think so too? I actually hate it, it makes me look so pale."

"Wanna trade? I have the cutest top that would suit you." Christine lit up at the mention of it.

"Really?"

Amiee pulled a pretty crimson top out of one of her drawers. Chris was delighted, instead of stealing every ounce of colour she had, the garment seemed to enhance it. Her camel blouse suited Amiee much better; her warm skin tone didn't fade compared to the beige like Chris's did. Amiee suddenly sat down on the floor and crossed her legs. The sparkle in her eyes suggested excitement.

"So, rumour has it that you and a certain Mr Allerdyce spent a whole evening just the two of you." She leaned forward, resting her chin against her hands. Chris frowned and then shrugged.

"Yeah, so?" When she saw the other girl light up in a huge smile, she quickly added, "we were just watching a movie together, nothing serious."

Amiee's smile was very cunning. She was the gossip queen at large, and she happened to know that such a thing had not occurred here before. John Allerdyce was not the type who got attached to people, and this far Bobby Drake had been his only real friend.

"Well I happen to know that the pyromaniac has never bothered to watch a movie with any other girl here before, so there has to be something." Amiee could see that she had found something there. The other girl seemed to light up a bit and her icy eyes seemed to be a little less cold than before.

-----

Christine found Bobby and Rogue sitting by one of the picnic tables outside in the school grounds. She joined them and sat down next to Rogue by the table. It was a beautiful warm day out here, but you could sense the coming fall. Chris drew a deep breath and thought that she could almost taste the scent of red and yellow leaves, the soft moist of the rain.

"You are looking very happy today Chris." Rogue commented. Chris looked at the girl with the marvellous hair and felt a sting of pain inside again.

"Yes, I think I am." She sighed silently and turned her face to the sky. "I met a girl today; my new roommate actually. Her name's Amiee something."

"Is she new here?" Rogue asked interested. Chris frowned, and then shook her head. Amiee didn't seem to be new here; she already knew a lot of the people here.

"I know who she is," Bobby told them. "She's been here for quite a while now, five years or something. She's part of the X-men too, I believe. Apart from that I don't know very much about her."

"Oh, guess that's cool. She can help you out then, since she's been here so long I mean." Rogue pointed out with a smile. "Is she nice?"

"Yeah, she's cool." Chris told them and pointed on her top. "She let me borrow this, or we switched clothes actually."

Bobby and Rogue congratulated her for finding a new friend and then went on to talking about the upcoming science project.

Chris turned her face away from them and felt the old pain pound inside of her again. She felt guilty for being happy, grieved for her dead monsters. Because though they were monsters, savage beasts that would rip anyone who threatened her to pieces, she loved them with deeply, a wild unconditional love without boundaries. They were hers, just like she was theirs in heart, and in soul.

_Will it always hurt like this?_

Amiee had asked her about her power, and though Chris usually didn't feel like talking about her, she had told the girl what she could do. Amiee had called it 'A pretty cool power'… Chris didn't feel like that at all, it was nothing but pain to her. The urge to set them free, the relieve when they appeared and the horror and grieve when they died.

Xavier had told her that he believed that she would be able to control which kind of beast she wanted to come, and that she might even be able to call them back when she wanted to, but he had said nothing about severing the link between them. He hadn't told her what she could do to stop loving them, to stop feeling. Somewhere inside she knew that there was no way to cut them off from her, they were like cancer creeping inside of her skin. The happiness she felt only minutes ago faded away like morning fog and was replaced by the hungry beast she called Sorrow.

She looked up and saw John come walking towards the three of them. He was wearing that brown old jacket, the one that looked as if it had seen some hard years and was now barely hanging in there; it was worn out by time and usage.

He was far from perfect, he confused her with his arrogance and his sometimes aggressive temper, but as she met his brown eyes she felt a soft feeling grow in the pitch of her stomach. There were good things about him too, she told herself. He would hold the door open for her sometimes, and once on that rooftop he had talked to her in a way that was very uncharacteristic for him, he had been much softer that time, still rough on the surface but his voice had been softer than before. And surely no one was perfect, she herself was very far from perfect, and though she was worried by the weakness she sometimes saw reflecting in his eyes, she felt warm when she looked at him.

"Hi," he simply said to them as he sat down beside Bobby. He had the Zippo in his right hand as always. Chris was always reminded of a drowning person holding onto a life buoy when he was flicking that lighter. It was his security, she believed, the thing that made him capable of harming before someone else hurt him. Bobby and Rogue greeted him before throwing each other a strange glance. Then both of them stood up at the same time.

"I have to go," Rogue blurted out. "I have to work on my…" her eyes wandered around. "Um, my history essay, I have to work on my history essay." She said and turned around and began walking back towards the school.

"Yeah and I have to study some math." Bobby said and began walking really fast, catching up with Rogue before disappearing into the school. Chris just sat there, looking at their backs as they went. _"That's odd"_ se thought. _"Math s Bobby's best subject. It's almost as if they meant to leave me here with-"_ She snapped back into reality. She was now left alone with John who was sitting on the opposite side of the table, looking at her. She suddenly felt a bit uneasy and shy, was she supposed to say something?

"Had a good nights sleep?" he asked her. She was confused, and there was something in his hazel orbs that told her that he knew something.

"I did; why are you asking?"

"Ah, nothing really." He looked away from her and gazed up at the blue sky.

"Who is thins 'angel of music' person you're talking about sometimes?" he suddenly asked out of the blue. Chris felt caught off guard and didn't really understand what it was he wanted to know. Who was really the Angel of Music? It was such a hard question, who are you; who am I; they were all difficult questions to answer.

"It's kind of a dorky name for a person," he continued saying. Chris suddenly understood what he wanted to know.

"Oh that, well I just love the Phantom of the Opera." One of John's eyebrows was raised. "The musical the Phantom of the Opera, the one written by Andrew Lloyd Webber, you know?"

"That one, well then I know what you're talking about."

Christine wasn't sure that he actually knew what the Phantom of the Opera was, but she decided to ignore it, explaining would take quite some time, and he didn't seem like the type who would appreciate the greatness of Webber's famous musical.

"Well, I had a mysterious friend who would watch me from the distance, playing beautiful melodies and encouraging me to sing, just like Christine Dae had in the musical. We even have that same first name, it fitted so well that I began to call him that, and he sort of is my angel of music." She shrugged and smiled. John nodded thoughtfully and looked away from her. Chris suddenly thought that she saw strange feeling in him; was it… suspicion?

"So you don't actually know him? Have it ever occurred to you that he might have some hidden motives?" there was such an intensity in his voice, an emotion that was foreign to her. She had never heard him speak like this to her, as if her was concerned for her safety. Anyhow, she felt a bit annoyed. How could he suspect her oldest friend to be a bad guy?

"The Angel of Music would never harm me," she said very firmly, almost aggressively. He shrugged as if to say 'Whatever' and didn't mention it again. They sat quiet for some time and Chris began feeling guilty. She hadn't meant to sound angry, but the thought of anyone accusing her Angel to be corrupt was ridiculous. His eyes now seemed cold again, despite their warm colour, he looked as if he considered leaving. She didn't want him to leave, she wanted to apologize, but she couldn't since there was something within her that held her back. Apologizing would be the same thing as admitting that you were wrong, and she wasn't, not about this.

"John," she said softly, a bit more softly than she had intended. She immediately felt ridiculous. "I was thinking about taking the bus into town for a quick visit, and I don't really want to go alone," she paused and bit her lip. "Um, w-would you like to come with me? Just for a few hours I promise."

He looked up at her, a bit surprised perhaps.

"Okay." His voice was flat. He looked down at his lighter and then tucked it into his pocket. Chris thought she could see a tiny smile play on his lips, but was unsure whether it was really there, or if it was just her imagination.

She wanted to go into town so she could get something that would de-colour her hair. It was just a sudden urge she had. She wanted her real hair colour, her real eye colour. She simply wanted to feel real again.


	7. 7: The one were Christine tells

**X-men: How brave men fall**

_Chapter 7_

_------_

John had been kind enough to go with her on the bus into town and waited as she got the de-colouration gel for her hair. She hadn't told him what it was for, and he hadn't asked. Chris didn't know if it was because he didn't care or if he figured that he would find out soon enough.

The bus ride hadn't been awkward like the first meal with him and Bobby had been. She actually found his presence comforting in a way; solitude was not as desirable as you might think. It wasn't that she was desperate for human contact, it was more like… well, she got lonely sometimes. Though in a room full of people, she often felt lonely. But when John was around, she didn't feel any of her usual solitude. Not that he was more talkative than the usual people she was surrounded by; it just felt like he was really here in the moment. Chris thought that the difference was what she felt for John. She usually didn't feel all that much for other people, they were more of a mass until some single individuals had begun to stand out, but John she cared about, though she somewhere inside of her knew it was a bad idea.

They split up as they got back to the school and Chris headed up to her room to see what she could do about her hair. She suddenly wanted it done immediately, though she knew she would be back at square one as soon as it was done. She gently pushed the door open and hoped that Amiee wouldn't be in for the moment. Her usual luck struck again as she was greeted by Amiee's energetic voice.

"Hi Chris, how was your trip into town?" Amiee was beaming at her.

"You know everything that happens around here, don't you?" Chris asked her, trying to avoid the subject. She didn't like to dig to deeply into these things, didn't like to talk about feelings. She had this feeling that if you talked to much about it, something would change and you would wake up one day and find that they were suddenly less significant than before.

"Yes, I do know everything that happens around here," she begun, and then her eyes narrowed slyly. "But if you don't wanna talk to me about it then I understand. It'll come with time." Then Amiee's eyes wandered to the small box in Chris's hand. "What's that?"

"Um, I'm going to de-colour my hair."

"Want help with that?"

And so Amiee helped her put the crème into her hair and then the two of them passed time by reading all of Amiee's Seventeen magazines. Giggling they ranked the cutest guys in every magazine and admired the dresses some of the female stars wore. It was a world so different from the one Chris was used to, and different from the world she was living in now. She wondered if some of these stars were mutants, if they just kept it as a secret.

She went into the bathroom to rinse the crème out of her hair, and then wrapped a towel around it. When it was fairly dry she removed the towel and ran a comb through her hair. It had been such a long time since she'd last seen her natural hair colour that she at first didn't even recognize herself. She reminded herself of snow, a coat of white, gleaming cold that hid everything underneath the surface, all the ugly truths of the world, all the sorrow. Her parents had always talked about her mutation as a sickness, like cancer, and she had always thought of her visible signs of mutation as ugly. But now, when she was looking at herself, she didn't see ugliness. She saw loads of things, but no ugliness.

She stepped out of the bathroom to show Amiee the change. The girl gasped, obviously impressed and jumped to her feet.

"Wow, that's so cool. Damned Chris, why would you ever dye your hair from the start?"

Christine just shrugged. She didn't feel like explaining to Amiee that it was her parents who'd made her change her hair. She often told herself that her parents always had her best interests in mind, and that they made her change because they didn't want her to be picked on and stared at by other children. But somehow she knew that they had done what they'd done to protect themselves from other people's prejudice. That made her sad, since everyone always talked about how parents always loved you as you were, not what who or what you were like.

Amiee threw herself back down on the floor and just lay there, looking up at the ceiling.

"What are you doing?" Chris asked her new roomie, confused by such strange behaviour.

"Relaxing. You should try it, just lie down and let go of everything that's stressing to you. If you join me, we could chat, about nothing important really, you know."

Chris wasn't sure she knew, but it sounded tempting to her still. She took Amiee's offer and lay down beside the other girl. It felt good, though she hadn't anticipated it. During her lonely years Chris had never actually longed for human companionship, she had the Angel of music as a connection to another person, and though she felt lonely she never actually longed for human closeness. But now she did.

"Amiee?" she began, hesitating. She interpreted her friend's silence as a sign that she was listening. "How long have you been here?"

"My parents sent me here when I was thirteen, so six years I guess."

"That's quite a long time."

"Yeah, I guess… But you know what?" Amiee turned her face to Chris's. "I'm glad that I've been here for such a long time, because if I hadn't been here, where else would I be by now?"

Chris nodded thoughtfully; that made sense to her. She would sometimes wonder what life would have been like if she'd still been back at home with her parents. Then she figured that everything would be as it always had been; she'd still be looking out on the world behind her window, wondering if this was how life was supposed to be.

"So, how was your life before you came here?" she asked Amiee, wondering if her life had been as dull as her own. To her surprise, Ami sounded happy when she replied.

"Well, I used to compete in horseback riding. I had my own pony and we competed in both dressage and jumping. My worst combatant was always my older sister, but my mom would never compare the two of us." Amiee fell silent for a couple of seconds. "I often miss those times. Well, I miss my old life over all; my sister and I were the best of friends and my mom and dad were the greatest."

Christine thought of what Ami had said for a while. She resented her power because of what it did to her and because of how it affected her old life. Ami really wasn't all that different from herself, her mutation had also stolen her old life from her. The only thing that made them different from each other was that Ami had liked her old life.

"How was yours before, you know?" Ami asked her.

"Ah, nothing special really. I won't miss it to tell the truth." Chris casually replied and in her heart she felt it _was_ the truth she was telling.

"then I kind of envy you, or at least you can feel that you moved on to something better. I just moved on to something different, and though I have the time of my life here, I wouldn't mind things going back to the way they were before." Ami told her, but there was no sorrow in her voice. She sounded like someone who's stared into the eyes of fate, and settled with whatever lies ahead. Chris admired her in that way, because that was something she couldn't do. She would constantly be wondering, mourning about the life she left behind. Hell, she even did it now, even though she hadn't liked her old life.

"Chris?"

"Mm?"

"Was that you stomach or mine?"

"What?" Chris asked, feeling rather sheepish. Then Amiee's stomach growled loudly, like a hungry lion. She laughed out loud.

"That was definitely your stomach" she giggled.

"Do you wanna go down to the kitchen and get some food?"

The two of them got up from the floor, Chris grabbed a pullover and then the two of them headed downstairs to the kitchen.

As soon as she'd stepped outside of their bedroom door, Chris felt shy and withdrawn. Students were looking at her, perhaps because of her silvery white hair, or perhaps more because of the sudden change from blonde to… well, you know. Chris felt her gaze wander to the floor and she wished that people would stop staring at her. She briefly wondered if Ms Munroe felt stared at the same way she did now. Then she figured that she probably didn't, or at least Storm wouldn't care as much about it. She felt Amiee's hand on her shoulder.

"Chris, I don't know what you're hoping to find on the ground, your destiny perhaps, and whatever it is I'm pretty sure you won't find it down there."

Chris straightened her shoulders and stopped looking down. 'Okay' she thought 'Time to use that inner strength professor Xavier said he could see in me.' But she still didn't really feel strong, she felt frightened and insignificant like before. Again she admired Ami's strength. She didn't seem to be scared of other people the same way Chris was. Of course, people only stared at Ami because she was pretty, really pretty. She had that natural beauty that needed no make-up to become visible. She looked a bit like those models you see in magazines, wandering through the water on a sunny beach wearing shorts and bikini. That was at least how Chris saw Ami, like a catalogue model with her warm colours and tall slender figure. But she thought that the most attractive thing about Ami was that she was so unaware of her own beauty.

After cooking up some food they sat down and ate it in silence. Of course that could be because Amiee was fully occupied with eating extremely fast. Chris who wasn't nearly as hungry as her friend took her time, and therefore Ami finished way before she did.

"Chris," Ami said to her after finishing her meal. "I need to get some stuff out of the library before it closes. Is it okay if I leave you here?"

"Sure, that's okay with me."

Amiee lit up and threw her a beaming smile. She had perfectly shaped and very white teeth, something that other girls would envy when they noticed.

"I'll meet you back at the room later then, bye!" She called to Chris and strayed off into the corridor outside the kitchen.

Chris finished her meal and put the dirty dishes into the washing machine. Then she headed back to her room for a good nights sleep. She felt her mind stray like it always did when she was alone. It was probably some sort of subconscious mechanism her brain triggered as soon as she had nothing particular to focus on. In her passed, it had been her only way to escape from reality except from the shelter her own mind could provide. She began thinking about what she would be doing in the future, fantasized of a life where she was a psychologist, especially devoted to behavioural psychology and profiling. She had a nice house and a six-year-old boy named Alex, a boy she had adopted from Botswana.

"Chris," someone called behind her and broke her chain of thoughts.

"What?!" she snapped and turned around only to find John standing there. For a split second he looked taken aback by her aggressiveness, then he became defensive.

"Nothing," he said and began backing away from her. "You look nice, that's all," then he turned his back on her and began walking away. She immediately regretted that she'd growled at him.

"John," she said. He stopped, and then he turned to her again. She felt that she needed to say what she was about to say. "John I like you, _a lot_. And the way you are acting nice to me one second, and in the next moment treats me like I'm not there at all tells me that you don't know what you feel about me. But if you _ever _find out… just, let me know."

Then she turned her back on him, and walked away.


	8. 8: The one with the bunny in the hat

_**X-men: How brave men fall**_

_Chapter 8: The one with the bunny in the hat_

Chris was really feeling sick today. Not because she had just poured her heart out to John the other day, no, it had absolutely _Nothing_ to do with that. She was just feeling really sick today, and should probably just stay in bed… until the world exploded… or hell froze over. Maybe it was for the better if she just stopped to exist here and now?

Damn it!

Why had she told him? Admitting it to him was the same as admitting it to herself. She never had these sorts of problems at home… before anyone knew she was different. Her different was _good, _even intriguing, not to mention C-o-n-f-u-s-i-n-g!

"Oh come on you crybaby!" Amiee suddenly shouted and pulled her covers off with a powerful tug. "Lying in your bed sulking all day won't help!"

Chris whined at her own misery and turned over to her side, facing the wall. Maybe if she just ignored Amiee, the blonde would give up and leave her alone.

She felt someone grip her foot firmly, and before she knew it, Chris was being dragged out of bed. With her arms and legs flapping violently, she fell over the edge of the bed, and hit the floor with a muffled thud.

"Ouch, what did you do that for?" she screamed at her roomie, who had the guts to just stand there, laughing! Feeling agitated, Chris gave up, sighed heavily and began to get dressed. But she was still moping.

"Seriously, you are the biggest wimp ever! If you're so damn miserable then kill yourself right now, otherwise you are coming with me, and you are going to make the best out of the situation, that's final!"

Amiee's ocean eyes pierced Chris. Feeling thoroughly annoyed by her friend, and her own indecisiveness, Chris stomped off into the bathroom and ran a comb through her hair, put on some mascara. She wasn't really looking as neat as she'd like to, but didn't manage to muster enough motivation to do anything else with herself. She stomped back into their room, still to show her annoyance with Amiee.

The two of them headed downstairs to get some breakfast together before the first class of the day. Christine was tense and jumped at every sound. She could not help but seeing John everywhere, but every time she looked closer, it was just someone else.

"Oh dear god, what am I going to do if I meet him today? Why the hell did I have to blurt out that I really like him, before I had even made my mind up if it was true or not yet?" Chris babbled on. It was the third time she'd said it now, and she probably would continue to repeat herself like that throughout the day, like a broken record.

"Okay, stop," Amiee interrupted the nervous girl's ranting. "If he does not like you that way then you will just have to deal with it, ok? And if he does you will be glad you took the opportunity, right? So quit it Chris, you can't run from life you know…" she muttered before her voice trailed off.

They reached the dining hall, which was filled with students. After taking a quick peek, Chris noticed Rogue and Bobby sitting a few feet away. There was no John in sight, and Chris sighed with relief. She threw some things onto her food tray and headed for their table with Amiee following close behind.

Rogue and Bobby's conversation died as the petite brunette saw the two girls approaching. Chris only had a second to think about why Rogue was staring at her with an intrigued expression before the girl spoke up.

"Hi Chris, Amiee," she greeted them and stared at Chris like she had never seen her before. "I like your hair," she added softly. A light began to shine within Chris's mind. Rogue had not seen her since yesterday noon, when her hair had still been blonde. She smiled slightly.

"Uh, thanks…" she trailed off and sat down next to Bobby.

"So what' up?" Amiee asked and sat down next to Rogue. At the opposite side of the table, Bobby shrugged.

"Not much," he casually said. "Just some rumour about a place where they experiment to find a way to suppress the mutant gene. Loads of gory details that makes you think the whole story is just some hoax."

Christine in her mind imagined such a place existed. A place where someone would be able to remove her ability. To never again have to worry about losing control, never again have to worry about seeing the one thing in the world you would love even if it killed you, die. What would it be like? To be normal, a common slob like the rest. To be just human, and nothing else. Suddenly something a man said in a movie resounded in her head.

"_As I walked, up the stair, I met a man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today, I wish, I wish he'd go away."_

What if he would go away? It would be like being someone else. Did she know how to be someone else, would she learn? Who cared anyway, it was just a dumb rumour.

"I don't know," Aimee said next to her. "They've figured out how to do most other things, why not remove mutant powers too?"

"Do you really think so Ami?" Chris asked silently. Aimee turned to look at her solemnly, and there was a grave seriousness in her features.

"Yes, I do believe that if they haven't done it yet, they will someday, Chris." She tilted her head to the left, and looked at her. Was that pity Chris saw glinting in her eyes?

"Would you do it Chris? Would you let them change you? Take away a part of you, a part that defines you much more than your hair colour, or the number of fingers and toes you have?" Aimee sounded very serious. Chris had never thought of it that way. She let her gaze fall to the floor when she replied.

"What if it is not a wish to be normal that would make such a decision?" She fiddled with her fork and poked around in her peas.

"How do you mean?" Bobby inquired. They all seemed to be listening intently. Chris felt that it got even harder to answer.

"It's like… removing cancer from an apart from that healthy person"

Amiee seemed a little upset by this. She let her fork fall to the table with a rattling noise. And then Chris felt a hand brush her shoulder softly.

"Why would you call it cancer Chris? Because it can seem frightening?"

No. Chris shook her head. It was not frightening at all. If only it would be.

"You wouldn't understand. I probably wouldn't do it anyway. Don't think I could." Chris stared down at the table, as she suddenly felt a presence brush by her. She averted her eyes from her fork, and saw John sit down at their table opposite of her. She felt him look at her, with something she could only interpret as startles interest. She looked elsewhere, anywhere while feeling rather self-conscious.

The conversation went slow. Bobby and Rogue had finished their meals, and got ready to leave. Amiee wasn't near finished, but there was a mischievous spark in her eyes as she looked from Chris, to John, and the back to Chris.

Bobby got up and brought his tray with him.

"Me and Rogue are going to try and find Ms Grey to discuss those models she wanted us to make for that science through the ages-project. Guess we'll see you in the professors class, Chris, John." With those words he wandered off. Rogue gave them a warm smile, a wave, and then she followed her boyfriend.

Chris threw Amiee a threatening glance, trying to mentally warn her of doing anything… funny, leaving Chris alone with John. But Ami had that look in her eyes, that told Chris her intention was just so. She looked down at her watch with a sly grin.

"Oh gosh look at the time. I have a paper to revise before maths, better get going. I'll catch you kids later. You should finish your meal Chris, you're already skinny enough." Ami jumped up as if the chair had given her an electric shock, and picked up her tray. As she walked away she turned to Chris behind Johns back, and winked at the girl as if to say "Go for it" and then she was gone.

The silence was heavy. Chris fidgeted with her fork and knife, started to get ready to leave too with some forced excuse. This was too much, the pressure. She wanted to hide. John looked up from his food and gave her a look, as if he was evaluating her actions. For once his shark-faced lighter wasn't in his hand, but resting safely on his tray beside his plate. It seemed to be grinning hungrily at Chris.

"She is right you know, your friend. You should finish that."

Chris felt her head snap up, as if his words had burnt her. At least there wasn't the heavy silence, anything was better than that.

"I suppose you're right," she replied faintly and managed to press a smile that probably made her look uneasy and hysteric at the same time. She picked her fork up, pierced a piece of chicken with it, and maneuvered it into her mouth. It was completely tasteless, the texture was rubbery. She swallowed.

John seemed to have finished his meal, and had again picked up his lighter and resumed his habit of lighting it, then snapping it shut. He always stopped for a short moment to stare at the flame, and his eyes always displayed a form of intensity, so strong it verged on longing. He did not seem to have any intention of leaving anytime soon.

"You don't need to wait for me. I'm so slow anyway…" her voice trailed off and she regretted her words already. He averted his eyes to her, without really making their eyes meet. A slightly warped smile appeared on his face, and his nonchalant manner was suddenly comforting.

"Not like I have anything better to do anyway," he claimed carelessly. Chris thought of it for a second, and then replied.

"Shouldn't you be working on your fictional story for English class?" He scowled, and snapped his Zippo shut a little more violently than he usually did.

"It'll be a disaster no matter how much or little I work with it," he muttered glumly. Chris chewed another bite of chicken, swallowed and asked;

"Why do you think so?"

John shrugged, and his eyes avoided hers. He looked almost embarrassed, the way his shoulders were sloping, almost crouching in a manner that wasn't anything like his usual laid back cockiness.

"I'm just not a good writer. Don't know what to write about, and it all turns out sounding stupid anyway…"

Chris felt a little taken aback. John usually didn't talk about anything like that. As she thought of it, when did he ever get praise from any of the teachers? It was usually just them telling him not to do this and that, or to try harder. Must be hard to muster motivation when all one gets is reprimands.

"I read a quote once, that said that every person has at least one story to tell others. Maybe you haven't found yours yet. Is there nothing you can think of you'd like to tell about?"

He hesitated, she could see it on the way his shoulders tensed. There was something, but would he tell her? Chris looked own, arranged her tray and got ready to leave. She wasn't going to eat another bite of this dry poor chicken. Then John made his mind up, looked at her and to her surprise he said;

"Alright there is something I've written. But I'm not sure if I want to take it to class. Perhaps you could… look at it?"

Chris nodded her head in mute surprise. John grinned at her shocked expression, more himself again. He got up and motioned for her to do the same.

"Let's get out of here then eh. Should have enough time before it's time to get a lesson in ethics by the professor again."

He was very particular with that, the professor. To drill into his students' heads that what decided their characters was not the nature of their powers, but what they did with them. What their minds were willing to accept. Christine figured it was probably necessary. After all you don't put a gun into the hand of a 12 year old, teach him how to shoot, but says nothing of the consequences. It was a recipe for disaster. She suspected John thought it was just another opportunity for the teachers to suppress him though. He was so fascinated with his ability, sometimes too engulfed by it. So they tried to restrict him, which only made him want it more.

"What are you thinking about?" Chris flinched and returned to the present. They were in the library by now, and she was pretty sure someone had said something to her. She looked around with a dazed expression. John laughed, not just a snicker but an actual laughter, short, amused.

"I said, what were you thinking about?" The question confused Chris. Did he want to know, or was it just to throw her off?

"Just, thinking about what the professor said last time in class, about how people draw conclusions based on the facts they have at the moment, and draw a new one as soon as there is new information to add. I was just thinking, based on a theory such as that, does it work the same way with our actions. Would _anyone _of us be able to commit a murder based on a small fragment of all the info there was to obtain, and would anyone have been able to refrain from the killing if they had had all the information from the beginning?"

John stared at her as if she had just pulled a pink fluffy bunny out of her ear, and then claimed it was a duck. Laughter rolled up from her stomach and out of her mouth. She tried but failed to restrain herself.

"I guess I shouldn't even start explaining my view on it… You wanted me to look at your story?" she tried a friendly and encouraging smile. John however was still looking at her as if he thought she was a little odd, but reached into his bag and pulled out a couple of wrinkled pages that had been stapled together.

It had no title, perhaps he couldn't think of one, perhaps he didn't want one. She began reading. John just sat there, with his lighter, playing with the fire. Let it jump to his palm, grow larger, then extinguish.

The story was about a man, poor upbringing in a small village. He had no parents, so he grew up with an old lady who used him as a slave, always telling him that if he had been he real son he'd have taken better care of him. Then the boy turned eighteen and he left the old woman to die in her loneliness. He became a bounty hunter, making money on killing people, somehow seeking to make up for his poor childhood. And then one night, while chasing after a man with an incredible high price on his head, the boy spots a fire burning on the highest point of a giant cliff rising up ahead. As the boy reached the top of the cliff he realised it was not the man he sought up there but an old man. The man told him, that the boy's body was just a prison, until he was ready, and that the time had come for him to be released. And so the man touched the boy's chest, and suddenly the human skin dissolved, fell off and revealed, a phoenix. Its feathers were golden as it spread them. The old man warned him though, not to be too hasty with this all-new level of power he had, that it could overthrow him once his wings caught fire. But the young bird did not listen, and took off up into the blue, and there he was astonished with the power he felt in his muscles, the speed in which he could fly, how the fire seemed to almost burn in his veins. So he flew higher, pushed harder and harder. And then suddenly the bird's wings caught fire, and the power overwhelmed him. He flew faster and faster, spinning through the air beyond all control. And then the young bird crashes, and his fire is extinguished forever.

Christine was surprised by the commitment to the writing in the story, and a bit worried about the lack of optimism. A young man grows up trapped, a slave, wishing to be free. But once he finds that freedom he wants it too much, and it becomes his ruin.

"There's a couple of typos, but the content, it's marvellous. If we work a bit with the grammar, and correct the spelling misses, I think you could get a high grade for this John."

He looked up at her, and again almost seemed embarrassed.

"So you don't think its stupid?" A scowl presented on his face as he pronounced "stupid". Chris shook her head firmly.

"Not at all. This is rather great, there's commitment, an interesting plotline, engaging and there's a hidden moral to it. You should turn this in, Ms Munroe will be impressed."

They worked on the grammar and corrected the typos. Christine was tempted to try and make him brainstorm to come up with a title, but decided not to press her luck. They were almost done with the editing by the time they had to pack up and head to the professor's class. The awkwardness was gone, and thankfully Chris accepted it and relaxed. At least he wasn't avoiding her, and still treating her as a friend. They arrived last to class, but within the time limit and found that Rogue had kept seats by her and Bobby for them. Today the professor talked first about how the brain associates to things depending on how we experience them. And then they were asked to fill in papers handed out addressing moral dilemmas, such as out of 10 people, how should the hospital prioritise their health care, and so on.

Chris though it was all very interesting, but was rather glad no such decisions were up to her. It was too hard to pick who deserved something more than someone else. Hard to justify it in her mind, and it made her nervous.

After class Chris, Rogue, Bobby, Kitty and John headed off to the last class for the day. They were accompanied by another person in their age group, Piotr. He was a bit on the silent, careful side, but he was a nice fellow, and Chris felt at home with him right away. Rogue again seemed slightly, if only a little bothered by her boyfriend's apparent friendship with Kitty. John didn't say a word, but it wasn't that surprising.

After mathematics with Jean Grey ended Chris stayed behind in her seat as the other students left the classroom. Rogue signalled that she wanted to chat with her later, and Chris gave her a nod to confirm that she'd find her when she was done with Ms Grey… or when Ms Grey was done with her. John left the classroom without giving her one look, which wasn't unusual so she didn't pay any attention to it.

"So miss Duveau, the professor and I think that you may be ready to confront your ability again. Please come with me." Jean requested and walked out of the classroom and into the empty corridor. Jean walked to the middle, looked around as if to reassure herself of that no one else was around, and then she pressed the wooden panel with her hands firmly. It caved inwards. And then began to slide apart to reveal the elevator that took them down to the underground levels. They both stepped in, and both the door, and the panel on the wall slid shut. They began moving down. Inside, Chris felt she wasn't ready at all to face her ability yet, but she was too shy to tell Ms Grey. So she kept her mouth shut, but felt sick, sick with cancer eating up her insides.

Jean guided her into a big empty room. It was actually completely empty, nothing on the walls or on the floor. The wall to the right of the door had a smaller section where a window had been placed. Chris knew the glass was both shatter and heat resistant, and that people could stand on the other side of it in a small room, and watch the one inside. She was unsure though if this room had always been empty, it just didn't seem to fit

"Alright Christine, we feel it is about time you stop fearing your own potential. We do realise that your connection to your creations is very strong, and we will do our best to make sure no harm comes to them, as long as you can keep them in check so they do not harm someone else, sounds fair?"

Chris nodded silently, but instantly felt the worry tear in her. Was this going to end well? Jean smiled kindly.

"Don't look so worried, it'll be alright. Though our first point of interest is you managing to control which kind of creation you produce, as you seem capable of several. I'd like for you to make a mental image of something safe, a herbivore perhaps, something completely non-malevolent. Do you see it?" Jean instructed while she stepped back, quite frankly as far back from Chris as she could come in the room. Chris saw it, a small fluffy bunny. It had been named Frank, and she had loved it above anything else when she was six years old. She gave Jean another nod to show her she saw it in her mind.

"Alright now Christine, I want you to keep that imagine in your head _while_ you use your power." Chris felt her eyes flicker to Jean, and couldn't help the worried frown that formed on her face. But Jean just smiled reassuringly, and nodded as if to urge her on. So Chris thought of Frank, and hoped it wouldn't be one of the big ones as she found the mental gate in her mind, and let it open so it stood ajar. Beside her a shadow formed, a black pool of nothingness. It expanded quickly, grew and grew until it was her size, and then twice her size. Chris saw Jean raise her hands defensively, and for a second the image of Frank blurred inside of her. At the same time she heard something, a drawn out noise that was something like a crossing between a sigh, and a screeching whinny. Suddenly the hairs on her body stood up, and the image of her cute bunny perished. The shadow beside her faded slowly, revealing something big. _"A horse," _she thought. _"I imagined a bunny, and got a horse. Isn't that just my luck?" _But then she saw it wasn't a horse either. The big creature had the built of a horse, but its hoofs were cleft in two, like a goat. It had a tail, but there were no hairs on it. Instead, at the tip, it had something that looked like a big stinger. Christine swallowed hard, and then her eyes moved towards its head. No mane clad its neck, just thin and grey skin without any fur. It turned its head, and looked right at her through milky white eyes. Its muzzle came closer and closer to her face, sniffed her. The air it blew out was hot, so hot she felt her mascara start to melt. Hot like an oven inside. Then its lips parted slightly, revealing not the big rectangular teeth of an herbivore, but fangs that glistered in the light from the ceiling.

At the other side of the room, Jean moved with a cautious look on her face. And then the horse swung its head around and its milky eyes fixed upon the woman. A threatening, deep and booming whinny came out of its throat, and its muscles tensed. It lunged itself forward, with a speed that baffled Christine. It might not be the most agile of creatures, but damn it moved fast. Jean's eyes flicked to Chris with a warning look, and Chris realised it was up for her to stop it, before Jean was forced to defend herself. She threw her arms up into the air.

"Stop!" she yelled "Stop, stop. I command you to stop!" she hadn't needed to go that far. The minute the first shout for the creature to stop had escaped her lips, the creature had sat down on its hocks, putting all it's weight backwards and slid into a halt. It straightened up, turned its head and looked at her again. Its eyes were dull, but the rest of its body signalled that it was paying close attention to her. Listening, and waiting, as if it understood.

"Come here," she tried, and right away the creature turned, and came back to her with a steady walk. It had very long strides, longer than the average horse. Or so Chris thought, since she hadn't really met a horse before. It stood still before her, and she took its head in her hands, feeling reassured in a strange way.

"Well Christine, not quite the herbivore I had in mind, but it seems to respond to you in a good way." Jean moved closer to them, and the horse-creature slicked its ears back and gave Jean a threatening look.

"It obviously does not like me," Jean commented in a low, thoughtful voice. The eyed the creature with interest. "Now for the real question though. Can it be recalled? As in, can you make it disappear again Christine?" Ms Grey turned her dark eyes to Chris who shrugged.

"I'll try," she replied with a weak voice. She didn't want it to disappear. Why could it just not stay here, with her? If she made it disappear, would it ever come back? She looked it in the eyes, and in her mind they walked back to the gate that was still ajar. They looked at eachother and in her mind she asked the creature _"Will you go back through?"_ But it just looked at her.

"I can't back it go back," Christine sighed, half disappointed, half relieved. Jean gave her a bit of a wondering glance.

"Go back?"

"Yes… it works a bit like there is a gate in my mind they come through. But he does not seem willing to go back through it," Chris explained and wondered if no one else's powers worked like that.

"Oh," Jean exclaimed and then seemed to think for a second before she continued. "It's alright Christine, you probably need some more practise, but if there really is a mental gate, then making them return through it should be possible in the end." Then Jean averted her eyes to the horse-creature again. "It is a he you said. Then to the question what we should do with him. First thing would be to get him out of here… but how?" Jean pondered.

Chris had no idea what to do. It wasn't as if he would fit into the elevator, and even if he had, they couldn't have one of these walking around in the house. Same went for the school grounds. He'd have to be hidden somewhere, but how? Jean made her mind up.

"Wait here, I will go to the professor and ask him what our options are," she told Chris and then made for the door. It shut behind Ms Grey, and Chris was alone with her creation. It had shut its eyes in her arms, and she was pretty sure it held its breath not to hurt her. She wondered how long it could do that, not breathe. She let her hand stroke over one of its ears, and the grey skin was surprisingly soft, but cold to the touch. Warm on the inside, cold on the outside…

"Don't worry," she whispered to it. "I will take care of you." The creature upon those words raised its big head, and its white eyes, so alike hers in a way, pierced her. It almost seemed to be saying something.

_Quite the contrary, I'm the one who is here to take care of you._


End file.
